


Interrogation

by alyjude_sideburns



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyjude_sideburns/pseuds/alyjude_sideburns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is questioning a Detective who is under arrest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation

  
**Interrogation**  
by alyjude

_[Click]_

"Just take your time, Detective."

"Could I have some water?"

Captain Banks reached over, switched the tape recorder off and nodded to Joel Taggert, who immediately left the interrogation room. He returned a few moments later with a plastic cup which he set in front of the man seated across from Banks. The man took two gulps, then glanced up expectantly.

_[Click]_

"All right, let's try again. In your own words, Detective."

The man cleared his throat and, while staring at his clasped hands, began to speak. "Have you ever really been in love, Sir? I mean, _really_ in love?" Not bothering to wait for an answer, he went on. "I didn't. True lust? Sure. Sex are first sight? Most definitely. But real love...no...until I...we...met. He changed everything."

The man took another sip of water. "I was a closed-off bastard before he charged into my life. Ask anyone. I did my job, damn well too, but that was it."

He glanced away from his hands and cocked his head at Banks. "You know why my marriage ended, right?" At a nod from Simon, the man went on.

"It was a mistake from the get-go and didn't last long, so once again I was a loner. Hell, I was a loner during the marriage."

The man glanced sideways at Taggert, who stood against the wall with another detective, as if looking for some kind of confirmation and, when seen nothing but the practiced blank stares, he turned his attention back to Simon.

"How I met him isn't important, only that he changed me. That's what you need to understand. And... and... how _good_ he was, you need to understand that as well."

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. His hands remained clasped. Finally he whispered, "I can't believe this. I can't believe he's gone."

"Do you need a few minutes, Detective?"

He shook his head slowly. "No, no, I'm all right. I...I just...when I...." 

He paused, took a deep, shuddering breath and, in a stronger voice, finally went on.  "When they took me down to the morgue, to identify him? I never so much as twitched. Dan pulled back that bloody sheet and I stared down at his beautiful face...I never even blinked. I wanted to touch him so bad, to brush the hair from his forehead, to soothe him, but I couldn't. Didn't dare. I held it all in, do you see?"

Again, the question wasn't intended to solicit an answer.

"During the investigation, I never let anything slip; kept up the facade - my game face in place and ran it by the book. But every night - every night I would hold his clothes, sleep with them, hold his pillow, wrapped my arms around it; around _him_ \- and cry."

He swallowed hard.  "You saw the body, Captain. You saw what Nelson did to him."

Blue eyes suddenly blazed bright as his voice darkened with challenge.  "What if it had been someone _you_ loved? What would _you_ have done, Sir? You know how he died; you know he was kept awake for all of it. All. Of. It. You know from the reports what was done to him. Can you imagine how you would have reacted if it had been your _son_? Wouldn't you still be hearing his screams in your dreams?

Once more, no response was expected. His voice low and shattered, he said, "He was everything to me...but all I see now are his pain-filled features; voice begging for mercy.... No, that's wrong... he wouldn't have. Begged. He would never have given Nelson the satisfaction.

"His size always fooled 'em. Small in stature but God, he was strong. An inner strength that was unfuckingbelievable. He was the strongest man I ever knew. Nelson tried to break him, but I saw it in his face, saw Nelson's failure. He may have finally killed him, but he never broke him. Never."

He raised his head, tortured blue eyes meeting Simon's steady brown-eyed gaze. "Does it bother you, Sir, to know that I loved a man? That he and I slept together? That we made love?"

"No, Detective, it doesn't."

One eyebrow rose questioningly at the answer, so Simon added, "Detective, love is where you find it. And when you do, you're damn lucky."

The man smiled wryly. "I knew there was a reason you were Captain of Major Crime. Not an easy gig."

"No."

The man took a deep breath, then another gulp of water. He glanced at the tape recorder and smiled again. "I'm going down, you know. I killed Nelson in cold blood and there is no remorse in me. My lawyer wants me to plead temporary insanity, but I wasn't insane. In fact, I don't think I'd ever been quite so sane or lucid as when I killed him.

"Of course, this would be a whole lot easier if I'd just put a bullet in his head, wouldn't it? But surely you see why that was too - simple? After what he did? No, he had to _know_ about the suffering he caused. Had to _feel_ it."

A strange, deadly grin lit up the man's face. "He was alive when I took his balls. Alive and awake."

_[Click]_

"Detective, you're a cop. And like you said, a good one. You _were_ half crazy when you killed Nelson. Crazy with grief. How can you say you _weren't_ suffering from temporary insanity? The man you loved had been brutally tortured and killed; murdered by a vicious and crazy man, killed in a manner that will haunt all of us for months, if not years. Let your lawyer plead it out."

"Turn it back on, please? I want this to end."

With a resigned expression on his face, and a great deal of sadness, Banks did as asked.

_[Click]_

"Did you know we fought that night. He wanted to move out. Was worried about my career. Like anyone cares? How many gay cops do we have on board? Hell, at least five percent are out of the closet. I told him, but damn, he was just so worried. Always worried about me, taking care of me, protecting me. He took such good care of me.

"Never had that before. Ever. No one ever took care of me. I took care of myself, you know? Aw, God. He loved me so fucking much. Sometimes he'd hold me hard, you know? Like he thought I'd disappear or something. Like - I'd leave him. Or kick him out. I did that once, but that's not important here, is it?

"Anyway, that night we fought and I stormed out after accusing him of being selfish, of being afraid. Can you believe that? That I'd accuse _him_ of being selfish? Or afraid? Fuck."

A great trembling seemed to overtake the man, his shoulders shaking, breaths coming in deep, great gulps. Banks reached out to once again turn off the recorder, but the man's hand shot out.

"NO! I have to finish."

Banks gazed down at the pale hand clamped down on his dark brown one and...nodded. "Okay, okay - it's still on. Go ahead."

Sitting back in relief, the man went on. "You can guess, right? I leave and Nelson breaks in and takes him. And I should have known. I'm a cop. And Nelson had to have been shadowing him, stalking him but I missed it. And then I - I - I... go and leave him." The voice dropped to the merest whisper....

"I left him to Nelson. Let nelson take him. hurt him... kill him."

"How did you beat us to him, Detective?" Simon asked, his tone sharp and intended to get the man back on track.

For a moment, he appeared not to have heard the question, but then it got through to him. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think there was someone helping me? My confession is on tape, it's over, but you think I had help."

Proudly, he answered, "No, Captain Banks, no one knew, no one helped me. But I am a cop so it was easy to walk into Major Crime, easy to get into your office, easy to take the investigation copies. That's all. I swear."

Banks glanced up to the detective standing against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Taggert. The detective gave a slight nod of understanding. At the worry of a partner was over.

_[Click]_

"All right, Detective, I think we're done." Banks leaned forward, one hand resting on the man's arm. "Listen to me. You _are_ insane. You don't belong in prison. Do you understand me?"

Sad - fathoms deep sad - forever sad - blue eyes gazed back at him. "Yes I do. I let him die and I killed Nelson and I _do_ belong in prison."

"No, son, you don't."

Simon gave Taggert a look and the big man pushed away from the wall and gently took the prisoner's arm. "Let's go, Detective."

Looking into the gentle eyes of Joel Taggert, he said, "You really shouldn't call me 'detective' anymore, you know."

Joel urged him up and, a moment later, guided the broken man from the room.

Simon closed his eyes and rested his weary body against the back of the chair. He kept his eyes shut even when the second detective who'd been in the room pulled out a chair and sat down.

"He was a good man," Banks said, his voice sounding tired and defeated.

"Yes, he was."

There was a moment of hesitation on Simon's part before he added, "There's something you should know."

Curious, the other man waited, .

Banks opened his eyes and connected with the pale blue ones of not only one of the finest detectives he knew, but also his friend. He sucked it in and said, "When we searched Nelson's apartment, we found that he'd already chosen his next victim. There were pictures on the walls."

Detective Jim Ellison waited, but the darkness that was currently gripping his soul told him what Simon was about to say.

"The pictures were of Sandburg. There were over a hundred of them."

In a deceptively easy voice, Jim asked, "You searched his apartment days ago, Simon."

"Yes, yes we did."

"And yet...."

"And yet, I'm telling you now. And you're wondering why. You're wondering why I didn't tell you at the time."

Brown eyes bored into the cold pair of blue ice cubes staring back at him. Time for explanations -even though they were obvious.

"Jim, you just saw why. Joel just escorted the reason back to his cell."

"I... see."

"No, you don't. You don't see a whole hell of a lot. All things considered."

Jim sat back, drummed his fingers on the table, then moved to the empty cup and began to play with it. Finally, "Did you mean what you told Rawlings about love where you find it? And... not caring?"

"Yes."

Jim nodded, then nodded again as if answering a question of his own.

"It's late, Jim. Go home."

"Yes, sir."

Jim pushed himself up, suddenly feeling every one of his thirty-eight years -and more. As he opened the door, Banks spoke again.

"Jim, talk. Tell. Then be quiet about it."

"I knew there was a reason you were Captain of Major Crime."

"Damn straight." There was a moment of silence...before both men laughed.

*****

Jim unlocked the truck door and with a bone weariness that slowed his movements, slid in and started the engine. But didn't put the truck into gear right away. Instead, he stared straight ahead, seeing nothing, but hearing plenty. He heard Detective Rawlings' voice, his confession repeating a drum-like staccato in his brain.

Jim remembered Kevin Lewis. He'd met the young man at Ginty's one night... what, over a year ago? A handsome young man, kind eyes, quiet and unassuming, with almost angelic features. A truly gentle man, that was Kevin.

Not a word he'd have used to describe Blair Sandburg. Nor would he apply angelic to Blair's looks. So how would he describe Blair Sandburg?

Infuriating. Yeah, that would work.

Or stubborn.

Inexplicable.

And... incandescent. That worked, too.

There was no single word that could really define his partner.

Unbidden, Kevin Lewis popped back into Jim's thoughts; but it was the Kevin Lewis of the morgue. The cold, lifeless Kevin Lewis. The damaged, tortured Kevin Lewis.

Jim dropped his head onto the steering wheel and moaned softly.

Vulnerable.

Like the sudden picture of Lewis, that word appeared on the event horizon of Jim's mind.

Vulnerable. Blair was so god damned vulnerable. Was Jim the only man who knew this?

Another moan escaped from tightly compressed lips.

But God, how Sandburg could put up a front - he had Simon fooled - hell, he had everyone fooled...except Jim. He knew Blair was the most vulnerable man Jim had ever known.

Naomi had known. Had tried to tell them that day in Simon's office.'Tried to explain. But he and Simon had simply chalked it up to a mother bear protecting her cub. An overprotective mother bear. How wrong they'd been and how right Naomi had been.

Except....

Blair was also the strongest man Jim had ever known.

He was also the most beautiful, inside and out.

And Nelson was dead; Blair alive. He wouldn't be the next victim because Rawlings was enough like Jim to have been his soul twin - with one important difference: If their positions had been reversed, Jim, after killing Nelson, would have blown his own brains out.

Jim lifted his head, peered through the windshield, spotted the opening elevator disgorging officers - end of shift - and realized with a start that he'd been sitting in his truck for over thirty minutes.

Anxious to clear the garage before he might be spotted and waylaid even longer, he quickly put the truck into reverse, checked over his shoulder and backed into the aisle then shifted into drive and made his exit.

As Jim drove through his streets he found himself torn in half. A part of him wanted to break every speed law known to man and get home as fast as humanly, or inhumanly, possible. But the other half, the frightened, sickened half, wanted to stop somewhere; a hole in the wall, someplace dark and smelling of stale sweat, alcohol, cigarette smoke - someplace where daylight was a dirty word.

 

That half of him wanted to get drunk and stay drunk.

But he was older now - wiser. He'd been taught well by Mr. Sandburg. Don't give into the fear. Push through it and you come out smelling like a rose - or like Sandburg. Which wasn't a bad thing at all.

Jim sped past several dives, the ball of his foot adding just that much more pressure to the accelerator.

852 Prospect came into view and Jim's heart flipped over, then sped up. The lights were on, the shades up. He concentrated his sense of hearing, focused, narrowed the field, and could hear Sandburg moving about, muttering nonsensical words and strange dire threats aimed at anthropology students and Cascade police detectives. In spite of t,d,cc, .lhe events of the day, Jim found he could smile.

He parked and, suddenly energized, literally jumped from the truck, jogged across the street and ran up all three flights.

*****

The red pen was getting more than its share of work and Blair was totally disgusted. Okay, so there were only two days left before spring break, and yes, young men's minds turned to flights of fancy but damn it, a fucking test was a fucking test. And why the fuck hadn't the fucking sentinel who lived here - called?

The Enya tape playing in the background was failing miserably at soothing the savage Blair, and to punctuate that failure, he suddenly tossed the red pen across the room. He threaded nervous fingers through a tangled mess of hair, then searched under papers, books, more pens, a few pencils, an odd assortment of paper clips, a half-eaten bagel, a yo-yo and finally touched on the object of the search; a much-used hair tie.

Blair quickly and efficiently tied back the attacking hair and sighed. Slightly ashamed, he rose and walked dejectedly over to where the pen lay - bleeding red - on the floor.

"Poor thing. Not like you did anything wrong, and yet I killed you." He held the pieces up and scrutinized them carefully. "A burial perhaps? Along with about half the blue books behind me? And one soon to be dead sentinel?"

Sandburg shook his head at his own words as he walked back to the table. He set the pen pieces down, picked up another one, and with renewed determination, grabbed a book and started reading. He'd managed three paragraphs, no red pen needed, when the front door opened and Jim blew in, looking damn good.

"Hey, Chief."

Blair frowned...because Jim sounded... different; voice lower, softer, hell - _nicer_.

"Uh, hi, Jim."

Any anger that had been stored up for an explosion had been quickly replaced by puzzlement and curiosity. He watched as Jim slipped out of his jacket, took the predictable walk to the kitchen for the predictable beer. When Jim offered him one, he shook his head and managed to get out a "No thanks" - leaving Jim shrugging his shoulders.

"Suit yourself, Chief."

That had Blair really frowning. Again with the nice voice? Stunned, he watched as Jim opened the beer, took his swig, then leaned against the counter and smiled. At Blair. Nice smile to go with the nice voice.

So what, did this mean there's now an Ellison Zone? Sure, why not? The only explanation.

An Ellison Zone to go with the non-existent Sandburg Zone. And if there was ever a day for Jim to have his own day, it would have been today - because today had to have been rough. A rough conclusion to a rough two weeks. But based on Jim's grin...maybe he should ask?

"Jim? What about... Rawlings?"

The smile wavered, but ultimately remained even as Jim's pale blues darkened. "He confessed."

Blair stood but stayed where he was, using the table for support. "Are you - okay?"

"Yes. He was waiting for us, even held out his own cuffs."

Blair's hands pushed down on the table, his fingers whitening with the strain. "What will happen to him now?"

"We're hoping his lawyer persuade him to plead temporary insanity, but he's fighting that. He wants to go to prison."

Blair dropped his head and said quietly, "Not temporary insanity, Jim. Not temporary."

Jim sense-searched his partner. He'd long since come to realize that scents, like fingerprints, were unique to each individual, and what he sensed coming from his partner now was the odor of sorrow. Blair Sandburg understood Rawlings competely.

"No, Chief, not temporary."

"Did he say how he found out about Nelson?"

"Yeah. He simply walked into Major Crime and took a copy of the file."

"I see. So no one else involved, no leak. Must be a relief for Simon."

Something in Blair's voice alerted Jim to a different problem. He frowned and tilted his head. "Yeah, it was. He wasn't too thrilled with the idea that someone in Major Crime might have tipped Rawlings off."

"No, he wouldn't be."

There it was again. That tone.

"Chief, what's up?"

Blair fixated on a pale blue paper clip as he answered almost absent-mindedly, "Nothing."

"Sandburg - spill."

Finally Blair looked up at Jim, only now his posture was defensive. "Come on, Jim. You know damn well several people, probably Simon included, thought that _I_ was the leak. And it's not the first time."

Sometimes, like now, Jim wondered about the 'detective' in front of his name, and just maybe this whole sentinel thing was a dream. Apparently he could be pretty dense sometimes. Gee, there was a news flash. But that aside, it was time to reassure his partner.

"No one thought it was you, Chief."

"Bullshit. Not that it's important. In the overall scheme of things, a friend is dead and a good cop is going down for taking out the bad guy. You've been run ragged and everyone's been walking on eggshells for two weeks so I'm just glad it's over."

"Blair, no one thought it was you," Jim said again, knowing it was important Sandburg believe him. 

Blair gave Jim a wry grin as he walked into the kitchen. "You know, I think I'll have that beer now." He pulled a bottle from the shelf, twisted the cap off and took a gulp. When he swallowed, he said, "Everyone knew that Kevin and I weren't strangers."

"Blair, Simon never once considered you. Not once. No one in Major Crime did."

Sandburg tried to study Jim's expression, his own mirroring his disbelief. Jim noticed the attempted perusal and with an encouraging grin, said, "I wouldn't lie to you, Chief."

Satisfied with the words; with Jim's expression, Blair nodded slowly. Now that the issue of how Rawlings discovered who the primary suspect was, Blair returned to worrying about Jim. Not that he ever didn't. Worry about Jim. "So you're really all right?"

"Yeah," Jim affirmed. You?"

"Will be," Blair answered with a slight smile.

"Tough couple of weeks," Jim said just before taking another swig from his bottle.

Neither man had moved from their positions of standing across from one another. The only source of illumination was the light over the kitchen table.

"Yeah, tough," Blair agreed. "But you had good cops doing a good job. Cascade - " He paused, dropped his eyes, then whispered, "Cascade is lucky. Too bad they don't know _how_ lucky."

"Kevin might not agree, Chief."

"He would, Jim. He would agree." Blair lifted his head to meet Jim's gaze again, but this time his eyes softened. "Did I ever tell you that he and I had a talk after the party at Ginty's?"

"Not that I remember, no."

"It was weird, you know? Working on the same campus for years, seeing each other in halls, crossing paths, the occasional hello...and then we discover we both have ties to the Cascade Police Department while at a retirement party for a Jewish cop at an Irish pub."

Jim smiled at that as he said, "Small world."

Blair chuckled. "Yeah and getting smaller as we speak. Anyway, a few days later we met up for lunch. He seemed relieved to have someone to talk with about Detective Rawlings."

Blair moved away and walked slowly into the living room, still talking.

"Man, he loved the guy. But he was worried about how their relationship would affect Rawling's job."

Jim followed his partner. "Yeah, he talked about that in the interrogation room. Said they'd actually fought about it the night..." Jim let his words trail. off. Blair didn't need to hear the rest. 

Both men sat on the couch and took healthy swigs of their beers. For several minutes Jim found himself doing another Sandburg-sensing, but this time, for himself.

Focusing on subtle body shifts, scent, the warmth radiating from Sandburg's skin, the way his hair moved - fractionally - as restless fingers twirled the beer bottle.

As he watched the bottle turning, Jim found his breathing starting to match the thrumming of Blair's heartbeat.

"Jim?"

He blinked, gave his head a slight shake to clear his brain before saying, "Yeah?"

"You sure you're all right?"

"Very."

With that word, a gentle quiet descended. Jim watched Sandburg take another sip of beer and suddenly found himself saying, "Rawlings said something interesting today."

Without looking up, Sandburg gave Jim a mildly curious, "Oh?"

"Yeah. He estimated that five percent of the force is out. Said he was always trying to convince Kevin they were safe."

"After working with you for so long, observing as I do, I'd say that number is close...with another ten to maybe fifteen percent still in the closet. Even so, it would have been a hard sell for Kevin."

"For Kevin... or anyone?"

"For Kevin. He's - he _was_ from Idaho."

"Ah. But if he'd been raised here in Cascade?"

For the first time since Jim's arrival home, Blair smiled. "Where are you going with this, man?"

Jim shrugged nonchalantly. "Nowhere. Just curious. Making conversation, you know?"

"You're so weird."

"I know. Does that bother you?"

"Seriously? No. Feel right at home." He grinned again. "Always figured that was why we got along so well. Like minds and all."

Jim turned to face Sandburg and asked easily, "You think our weirdness would get in the way of, say, a date?"

Blair shook his head and gave an exaggerated _tsk_ before saying, "Jim, Jim, Jim. Has it ever? And besides, it's the _second_ date we both seem to have problems getting, what with the weirdness factor, and all."

With a punch to Blair's arm, Jim huffed, "Sandburg, I meant a date between _us_."

Blair seemed to trip on a rough patch of air and his body lurched forward. He shot out his right hand for balance and Jim caught it, steadying him. Blair blinked twice, then said intelligently, "Oh."

Jim watched as a cloud passed over the handsome features and he hoped that when his heart reached his knees some kind soul would kick it back upstairs where it belonged.

"I take it the idea of dating me is not on your agenda?"

"No, no, not at all." Then realizing how that must have sounded to Jim, he hastened to add, "I was just a bit disappointed."

Somehow Jim managed _not_ to squeak as he repeated, "Disappointed?"

"Well, yeah, I mean a date, Jim? A _date_?" His voice rose on the second 'date'. "Jeez, man, we've been living together for--"

They both finished with grins, "Three years!"

Laughing with Blair, Jim felt his heart backstroking happily upstream. "So what you're saying is that dating might be anti-climatic?"

"Understatement, Jim. Understatement."

"So no date."

"Hey, dates are fine - for other people. But not us."

"What if I wanted to woo you?"

"You'd be wasting a whole lot of woo."

"So you can be had?"

"Easily."

"So, no wooing."

"Nope."

"Maybe _I_ want to be wooed."

Blair let his gaze travel the length of Jim's body...and finally said, "Woo-woo."

Jim grinned broadly and inched closer to Sandburg. Smiling back, Blair did his own inching.

"You don't seem all that surprised by this, Chief."

"Jim, the world is round and two ships passing in the night are bound to come face to face in the daylight, eventually. If they keep moving."

Jim tilted his head to the left and made a motion with his hand as if trying to dislodge water from his ear, or maybe a bull elephant.

"You just topped the weird-o-meter, Sandburg."

"Yeah, cool, ain't it? Bet it didn't squelch your lust one iota either, did it?"

Jim snorted, then hooked his index finger behind the waistband of Sandburg's jeans and tugged. The jeans - _and_ Sandburg - came easily."So, we're really gonna do this?" he asked, smiling down at the upturned face.

"Would appear so, and man, are you in for a treat."

"Modest fellow, aren't you?"

"Shy and retiring, too. Now, are we gonna do something here or jaw all night? I have exams to grade."

"Oh, we're gonna do something all right and as for treats, well, hold onto your seat, buddy boy."

"Yadda, yad--"

The first kiss cut the second yadda off at the knees. The second and third kiss were accompanied by frenzied hands ripping and tearing at clothes, stripping the eager bodies down to skin. The fourth kiss found Jim Ellison flat on his back, Blair Sandburg on top of him, tongue buried nicely in his mouth.

A small part of Jim's brain was still functioning on the human level and he suddenly remembered Blair reading from some romance novel one of his dates had left behind. Doubling over in laughter, he'd read, _"Rod's silky tongue caressed her most private parts, sending her...."_

Okay, he'd have to give the author points on the "silky tongue" thing, because Blair's tongue was pretty damn silky.

Jim remembered laughing with Blair over the line...he wouldn't laugh anymore. Nor would he tell Sandburg that he had a silky tongue. Probably wouldn't appreciate knowing, but God, Jim was certainly appreciating it.

Oh, yeah.

Silky, quick, artful, unstoppable, relentless, probing, and Jim knew that if Blair so much as touched....

Smiling into the kiss, Blair rubbed the palm of his hand against the hard bulge in Jim's jeans.

Ellison came, body thrusting up hard, a muted groan torn from his throat.

*****

"Fountain of Youth."

Blair lifted his head from Jim's shoulder and in typical genius fashion, said, "Huh?"

"You're the Fountain of Youth."

Putting his head back down, he said, "I'm pretty sure I already knew that, but maybe you'd better explain in case some of my intelligence leaked out a few minutes ago?"n

"I just regressed to the age of sixteen. Horny and too fast out of the gate."

Blair's chuckle reverberated through Jim's chest and tickled his heart. It was the weirdest and greatest sensation of his sentinel life. "Do that again."

Blair immediately moved his hand to Jim's groin, let his fingers walk through the nest of hair and just as he was about to wrap them around Jim's dick, Jim swatted the eager hand away and said, "Not that, you idiot, the chuckling. Do _that_ again."

"You really _are_ weird, Jim."

"Just do it."

"Well, you gotta give me something to chuckle about, you know? I don't just up and chuckle, I need a reason."

Jim thought for a minute...then smiled triumphantly. "Simon in a tu-tu."

The laughter burst from Sandburg before he could stop it. The tingling sensation exploded, sending bolts of pure pleasure throughout Jim's body. The sound echoed within the chamber of his heart, traveled to fingers and toes via his veins and arteries, brought goose bumps to his skin and even his lips tickled.

Who needed a dick when you had a 'Blair with laughter'?

Scratch that thought. The sensation of Blair's laughter morphing its way into Jim's body had just hit said dick.

Oh yeah.

"I think I'm discovering something about this sentinel thing you'll need to test, Chief."

Head nestled back in the soft juncture between shoulder and pecs, Blair asked softly, "Yeah? What?"

"That's it? That's all you have to say? I offer up my body for testing and the King of lab rats says, 'yeah, what?' You're slipping, Sandburg."

"No, not slipping, just _waiting_."

Jim glanced down at the curly head on his shoulder, his neck and chin meeting as he tried to angle his head to get a look at Sandburg's eyes. Failing that, he asked, "Waiting?"

"Uh-huh. _Waiting_. I'm a firm believer in reciprocation. I'm waiting for you to reciprocate, you putz."

Odd. All this time, concentrating on the _sound_ of Sandburg, he'd failed to notice the _feel_ of him; as in one semi-hard dick pushed against his thigh.

Oops. Not good. Not good at all. "Oh, yeah, I'm sixteen all over again. Getting my rocks off and leaving behind the--"

"Spare me the details. And you were sixteen the first time?"

"Tell me you don't want to hear that _now_?"

"I don't want to hear that _now_."

"Thank you. So, where was I?"

"I can tell you where you _weren't_."

"Ri-iight." With that, he placed his hand over Blair's dick. And waited.

"Uh, Jim? You gonna do something?"

"I _am_ doing something. I'm reciprocating."

"Placing your hand on my dick is not reciprocating, Jim."

"Hey! That's all you did for me!"

"Oh, really? I distinctly remember a deep, probing, mind-altering kiss - I'm famous for those, you know, and then I did - this." He placed his hand on Jim's dick, allowing his palm to press gently, then rub.

"Ah God...."

Jim's hips bucked and his dick, already awake and lively, thanks to the laughing Sandburg, really stood up and took notice.

As quickly as his palm had given pleasure, Blair pulled it away, then flopped over on his back, hands behind his head. He started whistling.

Until a large detective-like body dropped down on him.

"Deep, probing, mind-altering kiss, Sandburg? Try this one on for size."

Mouth suddenly invaded, Blair could do nothing more than hold on and enjoy. Hail the conquering invader!

Jim let his senses engulf the man below him, allowed his sense of touch to experience every taste bud, tooth and slick cheek, and as he let the flavor of the kiss overwhelm him, he pressed his body down and into Blair's, gave a mental jump for joy when Blair's legs parted and one came up, knee digging into his side.

Blair was rolling, almost rocking, as he brought up his other leg and latched onto Jim's strong body. The extraordinary feel of his dick rocking against Jim's, the man's tongue, their kiss, the way Jim was holding his head, fingers buried deep in his hair, gave Blair the sense of being owned, possessed, _wanted_ , and owning and possessing in return. He controlled the motion of their bodies, but Jim controlled him.

Blair's heart started beating wildly and he tightened his hold on Jim, with both his legs and his arms. _Never letting go,_ he thought, _Never._

Jim finally recognized the change in his bed partner. Carefully, lovingly, he pulled away, ending the kiss, his eyes roving over the face below, frowning at what looked like tears at the corner of scrunched up, closed eyes.

"Blair?" His whisper sounded almost painfully loud to him but when Blair's eyes opened, Jim's breath caught.

"Stupid, huh? So stupid," Blair muttered, eyes flicking away from Jim.

Blair's face had always mirrored every emotion the man was feeling, and now those emotions were so visible, so clearly about Jim, that he found himself unable to breathe. Rawlings words came back to him....

_He loved me so fucking much. Sometimes he'd hold me hard, you know? Like he thought I'd disappear or something. Like - I'd leave him. Or kick him out._

Words about his dead lover..

The photographs. Jim could see them clear as day. The tortured, violated Kevin. And Blair would have been the next victim.

Jim took Blair's face between his two hands and turned the head until Blair _had_ to look at him. "Never, ever leaving. Never gonna lose me. Never gonna lose _you_. Ever. Do you understand, Blair? Do you believe?"

Words spoken harshly in gentleness, demandingly spoken, convincingly said.

Blair nodded, robbed of all words by the intensity of Jim's gaze and Jim's promise.

"Say it, Chief. Say it now."

Tears that had been hiding in the corners of Blair's eyes now slid down his cheeks as he did as Jim commanded.  "I believe you. Never. Never leaving. Never gonna lose me. Never gonna lose _you_. Eever."

Gentle kiss, lips barely touching, almost unsure, eyes wide, then, "I love you, Blair Sandburg."

"I love you, Jim Ellison, but please," blue eyes started twinkling with mischief as Blair went on, "Could you get back to the reciprocation, please? I'm really into your reciprocating techniques."

The corners of Jim's mouth turned up as his eyes crinkled with his smile.

"I can do that."

And he began reciprocating again.

 

the end

  
**Disclaimer:** All characters from **The Sentinel** are the property of Pet Fly Productions, Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo. Characters from any other television show, movie or book are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. We believe the works contained in this archive to be transformative in nature and therefore protected under the 'fair use' provisions of copyright law.

This story archived at <http://asr3.slashzone.org/archive/viewstory.php?sid=1290>


End file.
